*
Thanksgiving dawned gray but warm. Feeling magnanimous, Mitchell agreed to take us into the city. We got dressed in our robes and veils, then took the metro downtown. But we didn’t go all the way into the city. Instead, we stopped at a metro stop on the outskirts of town. Mitchell had already scouted out our Thanksgiving meal. The HomeTown Buffet was offering a free meal for the homeless and the down-and-out. It was a traditional holiday meal: turkey, potatoes, gravy, and dressing.
I have never enjoyed a meal as much as the one I ate on the vinyl seats stuffed between other homeless people at the HomeTown Buffet.
For dessert, we took the metro to Lemon Grove and walked a short distance to a grocery store named Dave’s. They sold a lot of health foods (images of the health-food store in Salt Lake City flashed through my mind) and were famous for their pies. Mitchell went in and bought a pumpkin pie for us to share. It was such a treat! Then we took the metro into San Diego and started wandering the streets. We didn’t have anywhere to go, so we weren’t in a hurry, and I was very glad to be out from underneath the blue tarp. We were walking along the boardwalk, the kind of place that families and tourists like to go, when I saw an old couple walking hand in hand. They smiled at each other and spoke in the short sentences that made it clear that they understood each other well. I couldn’t help but stare at them. They seemed so happy. So in love. So normal.
I wondered what their story was. How had they fallen in love? How many children did they have? Had they always been as happy as they seemed to be now?
A blanket of sadness hit me, settling deep into my soul. I’m never going to have such happiness, I thought. I’ll never have such a life. I’m nothing but a slave to these two people who are keeping me so close. By the time I can get away from them, it will be too late. No one will ever want me. I will be too old. And after all the things that have happened to me, no one will be willing to give me a chance. I’ll never have a real husband. I’ll never have any children of my own.
Depressed by such thoughts, I put my head down and followed Mitchell. We walked downtown. It seemed like we ran into a lot of homeless people. I don’t know why; maybe they were out for free meals or maybe Mitchell just had a way of attracting his kind of people.
“You know about the truck that’s going to bring Thanksgiving dinner?” a homeless man said to Mitchell.
We didn’t know. The old man told him. Mitchell was thrilled. More free food. He got the address and we started walking. Sure enough, not long after we got there, a large pickup truck with lots of silver containers in the bed showed up. But they weren’t organized, there were no policemen or security, and it quickly turned into pandemonium: screaming, shoving, arguments that escalated into fights, people scrambling over turkeys, tearing them apart with their bare hands while others grabbed entire containers of food and ran. By the time we worked our way through the mayhem to the truck, the only thing that remained was a bunch of empty trays. I could still smell the fragrance of cooked turkey in the air. I could see white lines of mashed potatoes that had been spilled on the ground, kernels of corn that had been scattered everywhere. I was crushed. I had been so hungry for so long and for so often, the thought of a wasted meal was something that was hard for me to take.
It was starting to get dark. With no food to eat, and with nothing else to do, Mitchell and Barzee shepherded me back to camp.
That night, I lay atop my makeshift bed and thought, It’s Thanksgiving. You’re supposed to count your blessings. But did I have anything to be thankful for? I wondered.
At first, I didn’t think so. Then I started to make a list.
I still believed in God. I knew He was the Savior of the world. And I knew that He was near, I felt His presence every day. He was the only reason I had been able to keep my sanity. He kept me strong and gave me hope. Nothing that Mitchell could ever do to me could take away my faith.
Yes, that was something to be thankful for.
I still had a family. I didn’t get to be with them, but someday I thought I would.
Another reason to be grateful.
I was hungry, but I was healthy. And though I didn’t get any dinner, I had been able to eat lunch at the HomeTown Buffet, which had turned out to be a really great meal. Millions of people around the world hadn’t eaten anything all day.
My list went on.…
One day I would be able to get away from my tormentors.
One day I would be free.
The gray tent kept the sun off.
The trees around our camp kept the wind at bay.
I kept adding to my list of blessings until I eventually fell asleep.
29.
Another Girl